


A Year in the Making

by Andizzy



Category: Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, before it gets better, there's going to be a lot of pain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:48:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23158795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andizzy/pseuds/Andizzy
Summary: It's been over a year since Jake left Sherry behind, ceasing all contact and communication. So when he shows up at her doorstep one night, soaked through and with that trademark shit-eating grin, Sherry is more than caught off guard.
Relationships: Sherry Birkin/Jake Muller
Comments: 24
Kudos: 91





	1. Have You Ever Seen the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly this is my first time writing a fanfic and I have no idea how long it'll be or how long I'll take to fully write it. I also had no one reading through this before I posted it because we die like men and need no alpha testers.  
> I've had this idea for a while now, after recently playing through the sixth game with my boyfriend. So I have him to thank for all of this, for making me buy this game on steam while it was on sale and for making me a shipper at heart even when playing a zombie apocalypse game.  
> Rating might change because honestly things might get frisky at some point, so for now I'll leave it on mature for language that Jake is sure to use at some point.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been over a year since Jake left Sherry behind, ceasing all contact and communication. So when he shows up at her doorstep one night, soaked through and with that trademark shit-eating grin, Sherry is more than caught off guard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly this is my first time writing a fanfic and I have no idea how long it'll be or how long I'll take to fully write it. I also had no one reading through this before I posted it because we die like men and need no alpha testers.  
> I've had this idea for a while now, after recently playing through the sixth game with my boyfriend. So I have him to thank for all of this, for making me buy this game on steam while it was on sale and for making me a shipper at heart even when playing a zombie apocalypse game.  
> Rating might change because honestly things might get frisky at some point, so for now I'll leave it on mature for language that Jake is sure to use at some point.

It has been exactly one year, two months and four days since it all ended. She knew it down to the minute and second, really, if she were to think long enough. She's won't, however, preferring to ignore the constant pang in her chest at the thought of everything that transpired during those difficult times. And it wasn't _the events_ that hurt to think about. No, she's a soldier, hardened by not only what she's seen on the field but by everything that had happened when she was no older than twelve in Raccoon City. Fighting for her life, fighting the infected, being tested on - that was part of a life that had surrounded her for as many years as she can remember. Now, getting close to someone, believing them and then having zero contact for over a year. _That_ did not sit well with her. _That_ hurt to think about.

So she doesn't. Sherry actively avoids thinking about Jake, opting on focusing on her work, on finding a place to call home, on adopting a cat from a shelter and relaxing. She hasn't done that in far too long. Relaxing was not part of her vocabulary, not when the world was in constant risk. But she's doing more desk job lately and the hours are somewhat normal (at least to what she'd been used to before) and finally she can try to experience that. _But it doesn't come easily._  
Tonight, especially, she seems to have trouble falling asleep. Perhaps it's the loud storm outside, rattling the windows with the surrounding branches, thick and loud drops of rain falling against the roof, that keep her awake. In bed by nine but tossing and turning under the covers for far too long before she turns around and finally looks at the clock. Two in the morning. "I swear to God." A groan, covering her face with both hands until Sherry decides to get up and grab some coffee. As much as she wants to actually sleep, there is no foreseeable future for that, and so a large mug filled with black coffee (covered in canned whipped cream to the point where there's more cream than coffee) and paperwork would do for now. Maybe she'd get tired of going through old files and actually get sleepy enough to catch some shut-eye.

The machine whirs to life under her thumb despite how muted the sound it makes is - the rain outside seems to be increasing and momentarily she wonders if perhaps she should've prepared better for something of this scale. _Windows are closed, door is locked. The cat's inside._ The mental list keeps going through her mind as she leans against the counter, arms crossed over her chest. The brown cat, aptly named Brownie (she'd never been much for creativity) jumps up to where she leans and settles near the heat of the working coffee machine, though she takes no note of that. 

_Knock knock._ It's so soft that she nearly misses it, and for a second Sherry stands up straight and looks towards the door. The clock in the kitchen ticks as if to remind her of the time and she doesn't even glance at it, reminding herself that it's past two in the morning. "Just my imagination." She mumbles to herself, settling once more against the cool surface of the counter. Who in their right mind would be out on the street with rain falling this hard and at _this_ hour? 

A couple more minutes and a soft _ding_ behind her reminds Sherry of the coffee she'd yet to drink. So she does, turning around and reaching up into the cupboard to retrieve a large mug covered with frogs (courtesy of Leon) and pouring a healthy amount of the dark liquid inside of it. Her arm stretches to open the fridge, where she finds the whipped cream that she heavily applies on top. Mug in hand, Sherry softly pads towards her living room, not bothering to turn on the lights in favor of the dark atmosphere surrounding her. Her eyes are quickly drawn to the pictures that line the wall next to the couch, and despite the dark room, Sherry is more than capable of seeing who's there through the soft glow of moonlight coming through the kitchen window. Hell, even if she couldn't see, she'd know who was there. Pictures of her with Claire, Leon, Chris - some on their off days when they'd managed to get away for a day or two; others during missions, after being sure that they'd survived. A couple of newspaper articles featuring them, as well. 

And there's one in particular that make her eyes linger for much longer than the rest, taken by a journalist that had seen them return over a year ago from the attacks on China. She remembers seeing it on the newspaper a few days after returning home and calling the news agency to contact the guy and see if he could get her an original picture instead of having to keep a newspaper clipping. He'd been gracious enough to accept doing that (after requesting a couple of bucks, of course) and Sherry had framed that picture and kept it, front row and center, on her wall. Claire had showed up and was hugging both Leon and Chris in the picture, while Sherry looked with what could only be described as pride at Jake, who had an arm around her shoulders and seemed to look at her with something akin to - _no,_ her mind yells at her mid thought. She wouldn't wonder what that look could possibly mean, and would instead hope that that smile he threw her way was one that she could remember for as long as possible.

The hand currently not holding the mug rubs at the spot above her heart, a sigh escaping parted lips. Even after so long, it hurt to think of the fact that Jake hadn't contacted her. He'd messaged her as she'd boarded the plane home and that had been it. Secretly she'd hoped they'd keep in contact, wanting nothing more than to make sure he was doing okay, share with him how her day had gone and what she'd achieved on certain days. And it wasn't for lack of trying, really. She'd called him, messaged him. Hell, she'd even emailed him repeatedly. And nothing. Complete radio silence. Concern had taken over at that time and she'd even wasted precious government resources looking for him. After months of coming up empty, she feared the worst and, even as everyone around her told her that odds were, he was gone (dead, she knew they meant), Sherry never gave up hope. Or at least part of her didn't. The other part of her wondered if that was truly the case because _why else would he not contact me if he was alive._ And for such a thought, she'd hated herself. Because what did she prefer? To know that he was alive and actively avoided contacting her or to find out he'd died? So she mourned him, quietly, all while hoping he was still out there.

_Knock knock._ This time it's louder and Sherry quickly turns her eyes to the door. There is no mistaking that for a knock at her door. No rain or branch could do such a thing, she knows, and that train of thought worries her because who could be at this hour? By the door there is a small table that holds a couple of frames, her house phone and where she'll normally drop her keys. Unknown to others, however, is that there is a weapon taped under the surface, perfect for situations such as this. So with cautious steps, Sherry walks towards the door, lowering the mug on the table and prepares to unlock the door. There is absolutely no concern on her part - she knows she's fast, is prepared for whatever comes her way - so the lock is fully undone, the door opening wide into the dark and stormy night outside. 

"Can I -" But her words are caught in her throat, fingers clenching tightly on the door she holds open. Because of all the things she'd been prepared to see, out of all people she'd been expecting and even not expecting, Jake Muller was not it. He's soaked through, but there is no denying that it's him. Jake. In all his buzz-cut, shit eating grin and piercing blue eyes glory. She's vaguely aware of the presence of his bike behind him, but she can't look anywhere else. _Jake Muller._ And she's lost for words, stammering half syllables at him in disbelief. " _Jake._ " It's as good as an answer as he's going to get for now and Sherry makes a conscious effort to ignore how breathy her voice sounds. It's the shock, she tells herself. The surprise of it all.

"Hey there, supergirl. Long time no see."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUUUUN  
> Of course there had to be a cliffhanger, I mean, what kind of fanfic writer would I be if I just left it all happily settled on the first chapter, yknow?  
> Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this first tiny taste of the fic I have in mind. I'll try to update as frequently as possible!
> 
> Chapter Title based on _Creedence Clearwater Revival - Have You Ever Seen The Rain_  
>  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g4flAZEgtjs


	2. Don't Speak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's the last person she ever expected to see at her door and yet, there he stands, soaked through and all Jake Muller. Just when she'd finally begun to quietly store his memory in the back of her mind, he returns and turns her world upside down. But why is he here? And why now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's really good to see people leaving kudos on this lil fic of mine, so I'd like to thank you guys in advanced.  
> Also what is that, you might ask, as a title for the chapter? Apparently songs are my inspiration for titles these days and I'll make sure to update the first chapter to leave a reference to the song used there as well at the end notes on this chapter so you can keep track of the playlist in my mind while I write these.

_"Hey there, supergirl. Long time no see."_

She wishes with everything she has that her brain wasn't screaming at her with all its might just exactly _how long_ it had been. Her lips part to remind him of just that, though she's quick to stop in her tracks. "Yes. Long." And then, she simply stares. At those piercing eyes that seem to be able to look at her beyond the surface, just as she remembered, the leather jacket that he sported and the fat drops of rain that slowly drifted lower and lower still until they reach his fingertips and fall to the ground under him. There's a flash of white under the jacket, though, and she can tell how soaked through he truly is by how much the fabric clings to his chest. It's only then that it hits her: she's standing _inside_ her home, in a plain tank top and pajama shorts, but warm. _Dry_. And he's, well, he's still standing outside, under the pouring rain. Even as caught off guard as she'd been, _this_ , her not inviting him inside and having this one sided staring match was idiotic and plain rude of her. 

"I'm - I'm sorry. Do you want to come inside? At least get dried off." Her expectant look doesn't linger long, though, and with a firm nod, Jake walks forward and through the door. Sherry swears there's a hint of a smile on his lips but it seems to be gone just as quickly as she'd seen it. _My imagination, then._ The second he walks inside, she turns around to fully lock the door before turning to him once more.

The house is large. Well, too large for someone living alone, either way. Two guest bedrooms, one of which she'd turned into a small office for herself, two bathrooms, a comfortably large kitchen and connected living room - and despite how large it had always felt, now Sherry thought it wasn't big enough for the both of them. Jake seemed to occupy her space, the scent of rain and something entirely his swirling around her and making her swallow thickly. She needed a distraction. A good enough reason to step back and get her wits about herself. And it's the rustling of his clothes as he seems to take a step towards her, arm raised, that reminds her of why she'd invited him in. "Right. Uh, I'll go grab a towel for you." And if he seems surprised and somewhat disappointed by her sudden proactive stance of turning around and making a run towards the stairs, she tells herself that it is, once more, just her imagination. "Don't take too long." She swears she hears him say to her parting figure, but with the sound of the storm outside and the loud beating of her heart against her ears, Sherry can't tell if it's real or simply wishful thinking.

Fluffy towel in hand, she takes a moment to compose herself just outside of view of the stairs into the living room. He's _here_ , he's _alive_ and something in her is telling her to jump him the second she reaches the lower floor, to ignore how wet he is from the rain and to hug the living shit out of him. Because she'd missed him, of course she had, and after having mourned him for so long, always in constant doubt of his whereabouts, it's a weight lifted off her shoulders. But she can still feel the heavy hand of another weight on a different shoulder. _He left you._ She closes her eyes tightly, almost expecting the voice in her head to cease. But it doesn't. _He walked away and didn't say a single word for over a year. He left you suffering, not knowing what had happened to him. It's because he doesn't care._

But she's strong, she reminds herself. Whatever reason he'd had at the time to walk away, she wouldn't ask. Why he'd never reached out, she wouldn't ask either. Curiosity is a horrible curse, one that Sherry suffers from terribly, but being denied any semblance of connection with Jake by asking him all of this - she wouldn't do that. Maybe it was better if she never knew why he'd done all of it. Maybe it wouldn't hurt as much as hearing the truth. And with that in mind, she finally takes deliberate steps down the stairs.

What she finds there is no surprise. The lights are still all turned off, the only semblance of clarity being the moonlight streaming from the kitchen window. And there, near the door with his back turned to her, jacket already removed and hanging on the coat rack, is Jake Muller. Sherry swallows thickly against a lump in her throat at seeing him. It's not _just_ the long sleeved white shirt that clings to every single muscle on his back that does it to her, though. (Not that such a view was exactly making her want to throw up, either.) But it's just the feeling of how right it looks. Like he should've been here before, lounging on her couch and watching horrible movies on that crappy television she'd gotten at a pawn shop. Petting Brownie while it curled up on his lap as he told horrible jokes to her. 

And it takes her a moment to realize that she'd halted in her reverie on the final step - she only does so because he looks at her over his shoulder, brows pinched as if in thought. It takes her yet a moment longer to come to the conclusion that he'd spoken and she'd simply been too distracted by her inner thoughts to hear him. "What?" Her question comes out more confused than his expression currently seems to be. And he grins, that trademark grin of his, and for a moment she forgets of how much of an idiot she must look like right now. So to stop herself from saying or doing anything else that would contribute to that reputation, Sherry takes the final steps towards him and hands him the towel. 

He quickly takes it, dabbing it on his chest before moving it to rub at his head. "These pictures. They're nice." And she knows immediately what he's going to ask next so, to avoid having to lie to Jake directly in his face, she turns around and heads towards the kitchen with one final glance at the wall of pictures he remains in front of. "Where did you get this one?" Yes, there it was. She had no need to turn around and question which one he speaks of because there could only be one single picture on that wall that would raise such a question from him. 

"Journalist sent it to me." It's not a _complete_ lie. He had sent it to her; sure, only after she'd asked for it and even paid good money to receive it, but he had. "Do you want some coffee? I just finished making it before I heard you knock." It's a distraction and she's more than ready to admit to it to herself. Her hand reaches for the pot and before she can even look for a mug, she _feels_ him surrounding her. The warmth of a wide chest against her back is enough to bring a shiver forth and Sherry mentally curses her body for betraying her with that reaction. But before she can turn around and ask him what he's doing, his arm extends and reaches into the cupboard to retrieve a mug himself. It's pink and it has bunnies on it and even without saying a single word, she can already _hear_ his smirk. "Interesting collection of mugs you have there, Sherry." And her name on his lips while he's standing so close, a hairsbreadth away from touching her, does something to her. Makes her wish for something that she shouldn't be wishing for. Because she had no right to wanting any of it. Like he had no right to simply walk into her home and make her feel that way. 

He must sense that something is wrong because one second he's about to soak her tank top with his own wet shirt and the next she's shivering from the lack of contact. A shiver runs down her spine once more but now it's her body missing his heat. _Traitor._ He'd left the mug on the counter in front of her, however, and she makes sure to efficiently fill it. "Sugar? Or cream? I also have whipped cream." Her voice is breathy and she curses herself for not being better at this. She's a grown ass woman and she's having trouble keeping herself in line simply because he was here. _What the hell is wrong with me?_

"Nope, black will be enough." He takes the mug from her, focused eyes never leaving her and tracing her steps as she walks around him and heads towards the couch. On the way, she grabs her own, still full mug, from the table by the door. "Guess I know who uses the whipped cream in this house." There's a hint of humor in his words as he follows her, his voice accompanying each of her steps. When she sits down, he does the same, though she manages to sit on the opposite end and as far away from him as humanly possible. He's built like a brick house and yet again, the space feels smaller with him so close, but she'll take what little mental break she can get. 

Her eyes are trained on the mug she holds, taking a long sip simply to say she was doing _something_. However, she can't help the few glances she shoots his way. And regret shoots through her core every single time, because each time she looks, he's looking right back at her and she knows he hasn't stopped looking at her since they'd sat down. 

"Jake -"

He cuts her off. "Go on, ask." His eyes are steely and seem to refuse to drift anywhere else other than her own. Such an intense looks makes her feel _seen._ It's an odd way of describing it - she'd always been seen. By Claire, Leon, Chris. The people at the labs sure as fuck saw her. But this. _This_ is different. He looks at her like she's a puzzle that he's working day and night to crack. Like she's been a fixture in his mind for as long as they'd known each other. Like he sees her, not as a science experiment. Not as an agent. Not as a woman. But as Sherry. As her. And it's intimate, it's as if he's seeing through her and knowing what goes through her mind and that concept scares her.

"Why are you here?"

Clearly, by the fleeting look of confusion that crosses his mind, this hadn't been the first question he expected. He'd expected it, of course, she can tell by the way he quickly recomposes and answers. But it would seem that he thought she might start with something else. And God knew she had other questions that took priority over this one but she wouldn't allow herself to wonder about them.

"You still owe me those fifty bucks." He grins and take a long sip of his drink, and even as her heart sinks into her stomach, Sherry rolls her eyes so hard, there's a chance they might pop off. For a few moments, she enjoys seeing him like this. Clearly having his fun, cracking jokes as if he'd never left. But when that moment passes, her tone becomes tired, weary. She doesn't know how long she has until she cracks under the pressure and says something or _does_ something she'll regret later.

"Jake. _Why are you here?_ " And he sees it. Sees how tired she looks, how much the question she asks is heavy in her mind. So he sobers up, lowers the mug and sets it on the coffee table. 

"I fucked up." It's so matter of fact that it takes her a moment to realize that he wasn't joking again. He fucked up. Of course, the only reason he could be coming here, to her, was because he needed help with something. How idiotic could she be? After all this time, thinking he might pop up at her door and take her into his arms and kiss her senseless, apologizing for ditching and making her forget every reason she had to be pissed at him.

Her mouth opens, frown already in place but he stops her, hand raised and a shake of his head. "I fucked up _a year ago_." He seems to answer the voice inside her head and she's silenced with pure shock at how pained he looks. It's as if a mask falls and she sees it - he's tired, doubt covering every inch of his expression even as his intense gaze never flickers from her. "After China - I left and I kept doing what I did. Not, well, not for just about anybody. I was actually doing good. Or, at least, what I hoped was good." His voice is oddly soft and Sherry has to force herself to not reach out and hold his hand in reassurance that she's here and listening. 

"At first, I left because I knew I needed to do something to - well, not undo the fucked up shit I did. But at least to make amends. But I also felt lost. I needed to find _something_. I wasn't sure what it was. A sense of purpose, as ridiculous as that sounds. Something that made me feel complete. A home. I - I don't know, Sherry. I was so fucked up after everything that happened that I needed out." He looks pained to admit something of this scale and despite that, she can't help but yell at him in her mind that she could've been it for him. She could've been home. 

"I wanted to reach out. But I honestly thought you'd be better off without me at that time. And then I kept telling myself I'd call you the next day. And the next day turned into the day after that. After a while, it just seemed like reaching out to you would be a moot point." A pause, far too long, and she wonders if maybe he's waiting for her to interrupt or question him, but all the thoughts swirling in her mind have seemed to come to a mutual agreement of shutting up until he was finished. And he seems to sense that, swallowing thickly as if preparing himself to say something that might change the course of the world.

"I realised that I fucked up when I couldn't find _it_ , Sherry. I couldn't find home because - because I had ran from it in the first place. I left it behind when I left you behind." The impact of his words suddenly hits her with full force, mouth parting with a sharp exhale. He - he _what?_ But he wasn't finished. 

"So that's why I'm here, Sherry. I'm here because I'm a fucking idiot that took way too long to realize that you're it. _You're home_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so just a quick sidenote for those of you that haven't played RE6:  
> Once you finish playing the entire game (main campaign and all the other campaigns (Jakes & Sherry, Ada, Chris and Piers), you unlock a cutscene with Jake, post China. In this cutscene he's helping out a young kid with the virus and taking out infected. So it's safe to assume he's out there doing the good lord's work, yknow. Either way, we will be going off canon for the fic's sake
> 
> Chapter title based on _No Doubt - Don't Speak_  
>  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TR3Vdo5etCQ


	3. Little Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake admitting why he returned makes Sherry's mind reel - words she'd always hoped to hear directly from his mouth, words that seem too good to be true. But it's too late, isn't it? Over a year has gone by and some words are simply said too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to this whole virus thing I'll be home more often at least for the time being, which means possibly me finally getting a move on with this fic. I have a lot of plans for the next few chapters, because as far as I can see, there's still plenty of them ahead.

For a few moments too long, Sherry can't look away from Jake. His eyes seem to burn into her, brandishing her soul, asking a silent question that she most definitely does not want to answer right now. She wouldn't know how to. When she finally lowers her gaze, it's to stare at the mug she holds. And momentarily she's thankful that he doesn't say anything else. He seems to want to let her process his words - either that or he's afraid that she'll spook and run away at the smallest sign of danger. Because that's what this was, wasn't it? A leap of faith. One really terrifying and dangerous leap of faith. And she's not ready for it.

"I need more coffee. Do you want more coffee?" Her words are rushed out as she stands up and quickly retreats back into the kitchen - never mind that she'd left her still mostly full mug back on the table by the couch. She just needed space. A reason to leave the room. To leave his presence that seemed to demand an answer with his silence. He's patient and that's, somehow, even worse. If he'd insisted on an answer, if he'd yelled, begged - she could be mad at him, upset. Tell him that he couldn't just walk into her home and demand an answer to something of this magnitude. But he's quiet as he allows her to slip by him and into the kitchen. Understanding. And that hurts even more.

She grabs the coffee pot and throws out the half of it that had been left into the sink, quickly rinsing it before beginning the process of making some more. A far too harsh push of the button on the coffee machine brings her back into reality before her fingers clutch at the edge of the counter, knuckles turning white from the sheer force of it. 

And he's quiet, deadly silent as he steps into the kitchen to join her - had it not been for that feeling of eyes boring into the back of her skull, she would've never known he was there. He doesn't come closer, however, simply leaning against the wall by the open entrance to the kitchen. She wants to yell at him, blame him for clouding her judgement, for making her doubt her resolve. Blame him for putting stupid ideas in her head at the mere thought of his words just moments prior. But she can't. All she can do is be upset at how honest he'd sounded and at how much she wants to forgive him. To give him what he asks for. But she _can't_.

"Sherry - "

"No." Her word cuts harshly through the silence of the room - with the exception of the incredibly loud storm outside and the soft purring of the coffee machine, which go into deaf ears at the pounding of the blood that runs through her just then. "No. You don't get to do that." Her head shakes but she doesn't turn around, instead finding the coffee machine of extreme interest all of a sudden. He doesn't seem to move, either, as if awaiting for her to continue. 

"You don't get to waltz in here and tell me all of that and expect me to be okay with it." The quiet quality of her voice is a harsh contrast to how upset she truly sounds. It's a quiet type of anger, the most dangerous kind when it came to Sherry. "You can't - you can't expect me to jump into your arms the second you tell me you _fucked up_ , Jake. That's not how this works."

Her grip on the counter tightens even further, causing a flash of pain to cross her face. So she lets go of it, instead placing her hands, palm down and fingers splayed, completely on top of the surface. Her eyes drift slowly through each of her fingertips as if looking for answers to questions she didn't know she had yet. "Do you have any idea what I went through this past year? Any idea what it's like to mourn someone you care for?"

At that, he seems to finally react, confusion clear on his tone. "Mourn? I -"

But she cuts him off once more, tone just as soft as it had been before, anger slowly brewing underneath it. "I mourned you, Jake. I fucking mourned you." And it's the sadness of her words that finally seem to ease that anger, instead being replaced with a tightness in her chest that reminds her of the day she'd been told to stop looking for him. _He's probably dead, Sherry. You need to let him go._

But she swallows it down, that longing of having someone that she'd thought gone and allows for anger to rise once more, finally turning towards him, leaning back against the counter. "Did you know that I looked for you? When you didn't answer my calls or give any signs of life for two months, I started looking for you, Jake. I was - I was worried." Her arms cross over her chest, jaw clenching further, tighter, with every single word. She might break a tooth, if she doesn't keep it under control. 

"I used precious resources from my agency to try to track you. I told them that it was in their best interest - you're a person of importance to our cause and making sure you're okay should be one of their top priorities. And they bought it, despite me clearly having ulterior motives for wanting to look for you." The concern she'd had for his safety had overwhelmed her, and not knowing why he'd dropped off the map had been plaguing her ever since. "At least most of them bought it. Some of my co-workers could see right through me. Leon, Claire - even Chris, they knew better." They could read her like a freaking open book, even when she'd told them, repeatedly, that she was fine. It was all for work. Nothing else.

"And for six months we looked for you. We had people on the ground, we had access to every surveillance camera, to every possible thing that could lead us to you." Until then, she'd managed to hold a semblance of control, her eyes never straying from his while she spoke, but now, the pain of remembering everything - it makes it hard to think of anything else but the hurt that clouded her judgement, that made her see red despite how much she wished she could go to him and beg him to help her erase those moments in the past. But she doesn't, instead her eyes drift somewhere other than his face. They look behind him at the couch they'd sat on, at the TV she'd gotten at a pawn shop, the soft shape of Brownie on the chair on the far off end of the living room, until they finally settle somewhere above his shoulder. She can't bare to look at him directly, but having such a conversation with him while looking somewhere completely far away just seemed wrong. "But we never found you."

Out of the corner of her eye, Jake tenses, jaw tightening as his hands move - she can't quite see what he's doing with them, but thinks he might be clenching his fists at her words. "Sherry - "

"No. No, you don't get to interrupt me like that because you have no idea what it's like to have everyone look at you with pity in their eyes because they know you're breaking apart from not knowing where you are." Her anger shows itself now as she takes a step forward and away from the counter, brows furrowed and voice a bit harsher. She's so out of it that the loud clap of thunder outside doesn't even phase her. She barely takes note of it. "That look of concern as they tell you that after so long without a single trace, odds are you're dead." Another step forward. "They told me that it was time to stop. They told me to mourn you, Jake, because odds were, you were dead. Fucking _dead_. And despite not wanting to believe it, I thought it might be true because - " A harsh laugh escapes her lips and there is no hiding the tears forming on the corners of her eyes. One wrong move and they might fall down her cheeks, so Sherry steels herself as she takes yet another step towards him. " - because why else would you not reach out to me, right? You _had_ to be dead. There was no other explanation."

A lone angry tear seems to find its way down her face but she doesn't care, not even bothering to wipe it away. "So yes, I fucking mourned you, Jake. I cried over the person you were and the person that I wanted to have here by my side through the good and the bad and everything in between. Be it as a friend or as something else, I wouldn't give two shits because I just needed you here. So I mourned you. I cried for you. All while still being that idiot that hoped you were still out there." Because she couldn't handle the thought that he'd died, that he'd left her behind and hadn't reached out, that he had simply _chosen_ to leave.

"So you don't get to walk in here - " A final step, crowding into him as a finger harshly pokes at his chest. " - and tell me that you fucked up - " Another poke, getting even closer to his frame. " - and expect me to take you in with open arms and not be surprised or caught off guard or, fuck, just _upset_. Because I have every right to be every single one of those things, Jake." A shake of her head and a step backward, away from his warmth and a hand that slowly raises towards her. "I fucking mourned you and it hurt and you're standing there telling me that I'm home while having made the conscious choice to leave in the first place."

Her chest heaves with the strength of admitting all of it. Not just to Jake, but to herself out loud. She'd thought it, plenty of times. How much it hurt, how much she cared for him and how, only then that he'd disappeared for a year, had she realized just how much. And admitting to it while he looked at her with a look of - God knew what - leaves her out of breath.

Sherry finally wipes at her face with the back of her hand, eyes going wide as Jake finally takes a step towards her, oh so slowly, as if she were a caged animal and he was afraid of scaring her. "Sherry, I didn't know - I'm -" But his words, as well as steps, are interrupted by a shrill sound coming from the counter. It's so sudden and loud that she jumps slightly, and further away from the space where Jake had advanced on her. The light blue tint of her government issued mobile phone glows faintly in the kitchen, and before she can think twice of it, Sherry makes her way towards it. She thinks she might see a look of disappointment cross his face, muttered words that don't fully click in her mind through the sound of the rain hitting the roof. 

"Hello?" Leon's voice is loud and clear across the line, a soothing balm to a wounded soul. _"Sherry? Thank God you're up."_ There's a concerned tone with his words and the soft smile that had begun appearing quickly fades away from her face. "What's wrong? Did something happen?" Her back is turned to Jake and Sherry doesn't even dare look behind her. The last thing she needs is the heavy weight of everything they'd both admitted to hanging in the air while she spoke with Leon. _"No, I'm fine. Claire's fine as well. Chris is, as well, as far as I know. I think he's on a mission somewhere in Europe again."_ He's rambling, a nervous habit he had that Sherry is quick to pick up on. But before she can even ask him to explain why he's calling, Leon continues speaking. _"I'm just calling to check up on you. You probably haven't noticed but the power is out in the entire county, I just saw an alert here in the system. Storm knocked out all power."_

He continues speaking but it's all lost in the haze that Sherry finds herself in - a shaky finger reaches towards the long forgotten coffee pot to push the button, and just as expected, the small light on the top of the machine won't turn on. Power was out, that much was certain. _"Sherry? Sherry, can you hear me? I remember what happened the last time, I just wanted to make sure you'd be okay - "_ And she's quick to plaster a smile on her lips, hoping that it would translate as honest through the call as she replied. "No, no, I'll be alright. You don't have to worry. It was just that once, right?" 

_Just that once_ had been enough for Sherry, however. It's still ingrained into her memory that night almost a year ago as the power went out and she'd simply blacked out. PTSD, Claire had told her the next morning when she'd found her curled up in a corner of the kitchen floor - and true, the last thing she'd remembered had been that night all those years ago in Raccoon City, a younger version of herself begging for her father to stop hurting people, for her mother to help her. Alone. In the dark. That's all she'd seen behind closed lids as she'd lost consciousness. So she can't blame Leon for calling and checking up on her. She'd been a mess then, and already she felt the pressure building up again in her chest, fear bubbling up. But she was prepared this time, she knew what to expect, so she'd fight it. 

_"I can be there in an hour. Or if you prefer Claire to go, I can talk to her and -"_ But she interrupts him, heart warming at the offer. "No, I'll be fine, I promise. I'll call you if anything happens, though. I promise." At that, her smile is genuine, care for this man and the others bringing a sort of peace that only they managed to create. _"Okay, if you're sure. I'll call you in the morning then, alright? Take care, Sherry. Love you."_

Sherry slowly turns around, soft smile still in place, eyes cast down. "Okay, I'll talk to you tomorrow then. Love you too." And when she clicks off the call and looks up to find Jake staring at her with a tick in his jaw, fists closed by his side and knuckles white, she can't help but swallow thickly. He looks _feral_ and a part of her feels somewhat proud to elicit such a reaction. How, she's not one hundred percent sure, but here he was. 

After a moment, he seems to realize that he's staring with a more than harsh look on his face, quickly transforming it into his typical grin, though it's clear that it is forced.

A nod towards the phone she still holds. "Anyone I should be worried about, Supergirl?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title based on _Of Monsters and Men - Little Talks_ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uwh0fCaYs_4  
> Next chapter might be from Jake's POV, so look forward to that!


	4. I Lost a Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A whole fucking year. _Christ_ , even more than that. He avoids thinking exactly how much despite having a cut on his mental wall for each day it's been since he's last seen Sherry. He'd known it was a mistake the second he left, but being stubborn was ingrained into him as much as fighting for his life was, so he hadn't backed down.
> 
> And then he's there and she's telling someone else that she _loves them too_ and his heart breaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time to see a summary of the first three chapters from Jake's POV. It's not as in-depth as the original chapters from Sherry's perspective, but it does add a bit of info as to what Jake's been doing while away. We also, of course, get to see what happens when Sherry hangs up her call with Leon!

\- Jakes POV - 

A whole fucking year. _Christ_ , even more than that. He avoids thinking exactly how much despite having a cut on his mental wall for each day it's been since he's last seen Sherry. He'd known it was a mistake the second he left, but being stubborn was ingrained into him as much as fighting for his life was, so he hadn't backed down.

Between days of cursing himself for abandoning the one good thing he'd managed to find in his life and simply living, he'd found something else to do: people needed him. Correction, not _him_ per say; they needed someone. A protector. Someone to fight off mercenaries like he'd once been, people that had fallen ill due to the virus and had become unstoppable. At least to regular civilians. Jake, however, knew perfectly well how to deal with them. A shot to the head would suffice, and when things were tough, a shot to the ankle so they'd go down and he could get some distance. This proved to be an especially useful method when he was being chased by a large crowd or when he needed time to retrieve something. An item that would fetch him a pretty penny (he had to make a living, after all) or even someone that had managed to wander into what was quite obviously a dangerous zone.

That's how he'd met Alexander. The young boy had been hiding under fallen tarps when a large group of infected had run over the area and hadn't Jake seen a scared face in the midst of that darkened corner of the street, he'd surely been ravaged by one of them. So he'd popped a couple of knees and a couple of ankles, giving him just enough time to reach for the kid and make a run for it. 

He hadn't left him alone ever since. 

His mother hadn't made it out alive from that attack, but his father had, and even after Jake reunited him, Alexander seemed to always find him in that freaking city. He'd bring him food, an article of clothing that was always just a thread shy of being too small for him, and reports from soldiers that he'd spy on. Jake, in his defense, had told him multiple times to stick with his pops, to not go around and risk his life looking for leads, listening in on soldiers that could easily kill him, or worse, turn him into one of _them_. But the kid, despite agreeing and promising he wouldn't do it again, would always find him a couple of days later and report some new advancement by the military men surrounding the area. 

One night, they'd been forced to stick together in an abandoned building. 

Just as they were parting ways, the streets had been overrun with far too many infected - more than the bullets Jake had in his back pocket. And instead of sending Alexander off into the unknown, he'd dragged the boy with him into an abandoned building just down the street. He hadn't slept much that night, instead opting on keeping an eye out for anyone that might wander inside and attack them. Leaning against a wall, his mind seemed to drift into foreign territory at every given opportunity. And if he'd died there, Sherry would never know what happened to him. He would've never been able to apologize for leaving her behind without a word, apologize for not calling her back, for letting her know that he was okay. For leaving behind the best thing that he'd ever (almost) had. 

He's so distracted by his own thoughts, Sherry's face ingrained into his mind, that he doesn't even realize when Alexander sits up from where he'd been sleeping. "My father has that face when he thinks about my mother, you know." Jake's eyes quickly shift to look at the kid. "Does she know you think of her, Jake?" 

And that question had plagued him from that very moment. Even as he'd fallen right back to sleep, Jake couldn't remove that question from his mind. _Did_ she know? There was no way she did, right? And that sent a crest of pain through his chest. Because he could die tonight, or tomorrow, or the following day, and she would never know that he thought of her. That his last thought would surely be of her.

So the next morning, after making sure Alexander was safely returned to his father, he'd make sure to let her know. And after fucking up for so long, a simple call wouldn't do. He had to go to her. And the more he thought about that, the more the idea pleased him. Because after so long, it felt like he was ready to go home.

"You are going to go look for your lady, aren't you?" The question surprised him, especially since it was asked in front of his father as he made sure to see to it that he got home safe. "Yeah, kid. Think it's about time I do that." From the corner of his eye, Jake sees the older man looking between the both of them with confusion. _Not surprising._ "Make sure you keep safe, alright, kid? You know where all the safe spots are. If anything happens, you go into one of those with your dad, you hear me?" He'd stored food in there, weapons and munition. A phone line was also secured to call Jake directly. Even away from here, he'd make sure everything would be alright.

Which led him to standing at Sherry's door, two in the morning and completely soaked through. 

He'd arrived an hour prior but hadn't been able to knock at her door. _Fear_ , it seems, isn't something he's familiar with. He's always run head first into problems, always ignored the consequences and took risks. And now, here he was, taking a risk but afraid of actually putting it into motion. Because what if he was too late? What if she'd found someone else to make her happy? What if she simply didn't feel the same for him?

But he had to know. He simply had. So after almost an hour of raising his arm to knock at her door only to lower it once more to his side, he finally raps on the wooden surface.

No one opens it.

 _It's two in the fucking morning, you idiot. Do you really think she's awake?_

But he doesn't give up. He can't, he's reminded, because he's waited too long and fuck that notion that if he waited until now, he could wait until morning because he sure couldn't. So he knocks again, a bit harder this time. And to his surprise, despite the loud rain and the dark home inside, the door opens.

And Sherry looks breathtaking - like a glass of cold water after walking under the scorching sun for days. Or, better yet, like a warm blanket after a wet storm. And while she takes him in, the surprise evident on her face, he takes his time to do the same. 

She looks nearly the same, her hair a bit longer than what he remembered, but still Sherry in all her essence. He tries not to take note of her petite frame in such small attire just in case his body takes notice and all the good he'd decided to do goes out the window.

And when she finally allows him to walk into her home, it takes everything in him to not grab her immediately. First, he doesn't want to get her wet either - and his mind curses at the way he'd phrased that even in mere thought - but he can also tell that she's more than a bit spooked by his presence. So he waits, looks around her home while she grabs him a towel from upstairs, ignoring the ache in his chest as she'd stepped out of his reach as his hand began inching towards her in search of _home_ , halting at the pictures on the wall. There, straight in the middle of all the pictures of her with somewhat familiar faces, Jake sees his own. And _fuck_ , how had he not realized how he felt before if it was all written in his face? The look of pure adoration as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She'd saved his life that day, and all he saw was her. Even now, that hadn't changed.

He'd failed at keeping his distance when she'd made her way into the kitchen. It's his teasing nature, he mentally tells himself, as he comes up behind her, a tad closer than needed, his chest to her back, feeling the warmth of her body against his cold one, as he reaches for the mug. But he quickly feels it, the unease that shakes her body and has him step back to give her space, the mug placed in front of her as he lets her continue her work over the coffee she prepares. 

It takes everything in him, once more, to not simply take her into his arms and beg to let her work the rest of his life on apologizing for hurting her so. But he waits. He waits and lets her hand him the mug of coffee, lets her sit on the couch - he gives her space even then, sitting on the opposite end instead of crowding into her space. 

And when they finally begin to speak, he's quick to realize that _humor_ is certainly not the way to go. So he lays it all out for her. The regret. His mistakes. How he'd fucked up entirely and he wished to make amends. How she was it for him. _Home._

When she retreats, he doesn't stop her, either. She needs the space, he understands as much. He remains seated on the couch, clutching the mug as if it's the only thing keeping him from extending his arm and pulling her to him. Because despite how relaxed and composed he looks to her, he feels anything but. Fear swims in his eyes, skin just a bit colder than it would be due to the rain, fingers shaking slightly more than simply from the cold. But he doesn't let it show because if anyone should pay the price for his mistakes, it's him.

When he finally stands up and finds her in the kitchen, he simply doesn't know what to do. He'd opened himself up. Hoped for the best. And yet he knows that he's done too much wrong for it to be that simple. 

"Sherry - "

And when she interrupts him, she doesn't do it lightly. She puts him in his place and teaches him about everything he hadn't known about. Her struggles, how much she'd missed him, how she'd mourned him, and such a concept was foreign to him. _Being mourned._ Not because he wasn't aware of her going through it, no, although that punches the air from his lungs, imagining her thinking him dead, much like he'd feared while he was away. But the idea that someone would actually miss him that much. With no father to speak of, that had so willingly abandoned him and his mother, with a mother now dead from illness - he could have never imagined that Sherry, even after having been abandoned by him (because there was really no two ways about it, he _had_ abandoned her), would mourn him. Feel an aching, open wound in her chest for him. Jake Muller.

He truly, royally, had fucked up with her.

She doesn't let him get a word in edgewise, and he can't help but be silently proud of how strong she is, not dealing with any of his shit. It had always been something he'd admired in her, even in the past, and he's glad to see that even in a moment of pure anger, she still maintains that way of dealing with him. But it breaks him. Every. Single. Word. It simply breaks him. Knowing that she'd looked for him and that despite having to admit to herself that he was dead, that she'd hoped, against all odds, that he had truly left her behind and was still up and kicking. He moves forward, wanting to comfort her; his words wouldn't do but maybe if he'd hugged her, held her closed, proved to her that he was here and ready to fight for her, for _them_ , then _maybe_...

But no. 

He thinks maybe she would've let him finally touch her, hold her, if it hadn't been for that _fucking_ phone that seemed to dump cold water onto such a heated argument. 

And as she picks it up, he doesn't move nor say anything. It's possible that she needs that reprieve to catch her breath. He just hopes it's not a moment to consider her options of simply throwing him out onto the street and tell him to get the fuck out of her life for good. He doesn't think he can handle that. Not now, not ever.

 _Love you too._ He had positively never heard those words coming from her and there's a gaping wound on his chest that seems to widen and hurt more than usual at hearing her say them to someone else.

His jaw is clenched too tightly and Jake knows he'll chip a tooth if he keeps it up. If he doesn't scare Sherry off by then, of course. "Anyone I should be worried about, Supergirl?"

Her wide eyed expression seems to quickly shift into what can only be considered resolve. She's not upset or angry at his question but it's like she's gained a different stance about him. About _them_. "You lost your right to be worried about anyone in my life the second you decided to leave it, Jake." And he knows she's right - still, his hand goes to his chest to rub an invisible wound there as he winces at her words. "Not gonna fight with you on that one. You're right. I'm - I'm sorry."

She seems to quickly move on from him, however, her eyes drifting around the room. She looks at the ceiling, the television in the living room, a couple of lamps by the couch, and he's reminded of how concerned she'd looked during the call. She'd looked straight up ready to have a panic attack.

"Are you okay? That call seemed to worry you - can I help with anything?" 

Her jaw clenches and unclenches and finally she looks back at him. "The power's out in the entire county." She says it so matter of fact that he simply nods, not really seeing the issue.

"Jake, where - where are you staying?"

The question is asked so softly and so suddenly that he blinks at her. Once. Twice. And only then he answers. "I uh, I'm not sure yet. I just drove here straight from the airport. I figured I'd find a hotel nearby or some shit like that. Look for something more long term in the morning." If she's confused and wants to ask him about what he means by _long term_ she doesn't show. Instead she nods and seems to swallow a lump, eyes drifting away from him once more. Though now, he's fairly sure it's not because she can't dare look him in the eye. Now, it seems, that she's eyeing her home with fear.

"I have a guest bedroom." Her fingers twist into the edge of her tank top in a nervous twist, still not looking at him. "The storm - it won't be easy riding out in this storm. You might as well stay here tonight. Besides, the nearest hotel is an hour and a half away from here."

When he doesn't say anything for a moment too long, surprise overtaking him as he stares down at her, Sherry finally looks at him and it _hurts_ to see the completely unfiltered fear in the depth of those wide eyes. What's scaring her, he has no idea, but it must be important if she's asking him to stay here, with her. "Please." It's that final whisper that does him in, and with a small nod, he finally answers. 

"Alright. I'll stay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title based on _I Lost a Friend - Finneas_ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3mMVcCMO_Ng


	5. Only When I Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake's spending the night at Sherry's home, in the guest bedroom. But just as he's finished taking a shower before bed, he hears her screaming from her bedroom. And it takes him about three seconds to decide if he's barging in there to check up on her or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm really glad to see that you guys are all liking this story! We're back to Sherry's POV, which will be the main way I'll be telling this story, though there will be a chapter here and there to recap everything and add more to the story told from Jake's POV.

"So, this right here is the guest bedroom."

Sherry slowly opens the door to the bedroom across the hall from hers that was seemingly always prepared in case of visits. Those didn't happen very often, but when Claire or Leon decided to drop by after asking if she would be okay with it, she liked to be prepared. And so the room had everything a guest of hers could want: a comfortable queen size bed full with covers and blankets and an insane amount of pillows. None of them were decorative, either. 

"The bathroom on this floor is right over there. It's the one with the good shower, so if you want to take one before sleeping, feel free to do that." 

Her hands fiddle with the hem of her tank top as she eyes him in the dark hallway. He hadn't said anything after agreeing to stay the night and a part of her feels grateful - that he doesn't question the why if she was truly so upset with him, that he seems to silently understand that there is more happening right there than just him being back and her trying to figure things out. Another part of her, however, feels concern over what he must be thinking. _Being quiet_ and _Jake Muller_ did not go together at all, so his understanding silence unnerves her just as much as it soothes her. Leave it to him to make her feel even more confused than she already was.

"I take it you're headed straight to bed?" His deep, quiet voice within the silence of the storm almost makes her jump, eyes quickly shifting from his shadowy figure (had she not stopped staring this long?) to the door of her room. A thumb is raised and pointed at it. "Yeah, it's pretty late. I'm - I'm exhausted. I could use some rest." He nods, seeming to understand that he'd brought far too much with him from wherever he'd been for her mind to grasp at three in the morning.

"Do you need me to show you anything else? The shower is pretty self explanatory and I take it you know how to get to the kitchen from here, if you want to grab some - "

A soft hand, almost cautious, lands on her shoulder. And his smile is not predatory. If anything, it's warm and welcoming and calming. "Sherry, I'll be fine. Go get some sleep. I'll just take a shower and get some sleep too. I didn't sleep much on the flight here and it's pretty late so I'll probably just crash the second my head hits the pillow."

Swallowing thickly, Sherry nods, the weight of his hand on her skin a pleasant sensation after everything that had happened, after his words and hers and... Well, this power outage. "Alright, well. If you need anything, I'll be in here. Towels are in the cabinet and you're free to use whatever you want in there." He raises a brow at her seeming endless explanation of how things work, as if she was avoiding leaving her spot, and she gets the meaning. "Well, good night, Jake. I'll see you in the morning."

Without another word, she walks into her room, softly closing the door behind her and leaving a smiling Jake in the hall.

Once she manages to force her feet to move, her heart thundering within her chest and shaky fingers clutching at it as if to force it to calm down, she reaches the bed and calmly lays on it. Everything felt surreal, everything felt... Odd. 

_Jake was back_ and such a thing brings a bout of happiness through her that Sherry can barely contain but the contrasting sadness that comes with this information is just as powerful. He'd left her and she'd mourned and now - now she wasn't sure what to do. Everything in her begged her mind to forgive him but her heart was still shattered and she was unsure if it was beyond repair.

_There is a voice that calls to her. Soft. Tender. Familiar. She can't quite put a finger on who it is, only that it seems to lure her in, that begs for her to find it. "Sherry." It's a whisper that she can't crack, one that she follows through dark rooms and dark halls and even darker tunnels. Everything seems dark._

_She places a light hand on one of the walls and feels her palm getting completely soaked with a liquid that seems too dark to be simply water. But dark in darkness could never be seen, so she ignores the metallic scent that drifts from everywhere around her and hopes, against all odds, that her mind is playing tricks on her and that it is, in fact, water._

_In the back of her mind, she can still hear that voice. Calling. Beckoning. But it seems to become more shrill. Desperate._

_One look behind her but there's no one there; that voice is playing tricks on her and she hates it. Looking forward again, however, she's not in that dark tunnel anymore. She's in a well lit room, and it's so familiar. That smell of leather bound books and wooden floors with some sort of perfume that Sherry swears has been haunting her nightmares for far too long. It's cosy but brisk, familiar yet not._

_"Sherry." The voice whispers again and her eyes lower instinctively to her small hand that had been soaked only moments prior. It was no longer wet, but she can still see the dried remnants of what it was and nausea begins clawing at her throat._

_Deep breaths, she tells herself with a smaller voice than what she recalls having and only then does it hit her. She's not Sherry anymore, but a memory of who she'd been years before. The room - so familiar and so inviting with that musk that brought back good memories that had been nothing if not lies hidden from her younger self. The living room of her home, where her parents had often discussed things that she'd been far too naive to understand._

_"Sherry." It seems closer and now she vaguely thinks she can identify it. Her mother, she can tell. It had begun with that soft lull that she'd often used when telling her that she should go to bed because the adults needed to have a conversation, but now it began to sound more and more like she had that night. That horrible, fateful night._

_"No, go away!" Her younger voice yells into the empty living room, eyes screwed shut and hands to her ears. But the voice doesn't seem to care about her wishes. "Sherry." And when she finally opens her eyes, she's not there anymore._

_Instead, this room feels all too familiar for the opposite reasons. Blocks with letters and stuffed bears lined the walls. Not exactly how she remembered it but she knows this is a dream now, it has to be. Her mind is merely playing tricks on her but she can't seem to wake up, to fight it._

_However, she knows where to go. Knows the rooms in this place like the back of her hand because she'd fought with everything she had to be able to leave it with her life intact. So she moves forward, jumps high on empty boxes of toys and goes through small vents, knowing what room would come next. The maze that hadn't been able to contain her then, where she'd planned how to escape that man that had once been in her house and brought treats for Christmas, that man that had taken an oath to protect Raccoon City but had failed, instead hurting those within it._

_But when her feet finally hit the floor, it's not that room. "Sherry." It's different now. Not only the room, but the voice that seems to haunt her like a horrible song that gets stuck in your head. She doesn't know this voice, it's light and female but there's an edge to it. Fear, panic. Still, it calls to her._

_The room, however, is almost an exact copy of the living room at her home. Smaller, certainly, and with a lot more dead animals decorating the space, but eerily familiar as well. She can't quite place it within her memories, however, and instead opts on slowly exploring the room to try to get some sort of clue as to where she is. Maybe a frame with a picture. Maybe a newspaper article somewhere that would help her piece together where she was._

_But two steps in and it's abundantly clear where she is. She's still at the orphanage though this room was clearly not for public view. There's a metal table smack dab in the middle of the room and a figure laying on it, covered with white fabric._  
_She doesn't dare go near that table, fear clawing at her with everything it had. "Sherry." It's louder, almost a scream from a distance that seemed to run towards her. "Sherry." Her small hands go to her ears, head shaking in denial of what she was hearing, and without knowing, she'd begun to back up against the wall, fear of whatever it was that came closer with each whisper of her name._

_"SHERRY." The desperation in that voice rang clear in the eerily silent room despite any and all attempts at not hearing it. It so close and so terrifying and -_

_The body - she can tell it's a body now - laying on the metal surface slowly rises into a sitting position, white sheet lowering from the movement and shocking Sherry into remaining still after lowering her arms. Her mouth opens, a scream wanting to escape but there is nothing that she can do or say. She's frozen to the spot._

_"You let me die. You let him take me. You could have stopped this, Sherry. You could have stopped this in time. It's your fault. All your fault." The voice rushes out from the air that surrounded her, sadness and accusation heavy with each word uttered. The ash colored and cold body of the girl on the table unmoving and stiff as a board. "No - No, I couldn't do anything! It wasn't my fault." Her cries are teared out from her throat by some unseen force as hot streaks run down her cheeks._

_"Your fault. Your fault. YOUR FAULT." And then it happens - the girl seems to have animal like movements and strikes at Sherry's petite, child frame like she'd been nothing but prey all along, her colorless expression only inches away from her own face. "Your fault. You could have stopped them. He took me, Sherry. He took me and you didn't do anything." The dead girl's mouth doesn't move, but she knows the words are coming from her._

_"No, no, no! Stop - Please - I'm sorry - I'm so sorry - " Her cries echo through the room even as she comes closer, and closer until -_

"NO!" Her voice rings out in the dark bedroom, chest heaving with the exhaustion of her nightmare as she sits up. Sherry's head whips from one side to another, looking for any signs of her dream magically having turned reality. But she's in bed, she's alive. She's twenty six and in her home and nothing can touch her here. Even knowing this, her body still shakes and she can feel the warm tears slipping down her cheeks as a sob wrecks through her entire body. _Your fault._ The words still rang true in her mind despite knowing that she'd been no more than twelve and incapable of stopping any of it to begin with.

It takes about three seconds for her door to be completely blown open with full force and knocking back into the wall. That would surely be leaving a mark. "Sherry? What happened?" Jake's wild eyes inspect every inch of the bedroom before they settle on her shaking frame on the bed, as if awaiting for something or someone to punch and blame on her outburst. 

When he realises her state, he's by her side in quick strides. "Hey - Hey, it's okay. I'm here. I'm here now, okay, Supergirl?" His warm hand against her cheek, thumb sweeping away at the tears on her cheeks, though he doesn't sit on the bed or even so much as get into her space, opting on staying on one knee on the floor by her side.

He seems to mull over something before giving up on it and stretching up the missing distance and placing a soft kiss on her forehead and that alone seems to help her breathe. His lips linger there for a moment more before he lowers once more, though now staying on eye level with her. Both of his hands lower to her throat as well, soft circles massaging the space between neck and shoulders. "You're okay."

And his soft voice doesn't help her state. She can't remove her eyes from his, her mind focused solely on what his hands were doing - he's soothing her like no one had ever managed to do, playing her like a fiddle, like he'd been doing this his entire life. She expels a deep breath, nodding slowly against his hands. "I'm okay." Her voice cracks under her words but if he notices, Jake makes no comment on it, instead offering a soft smile and slowly getting up.

She knows he intends on leaving her, or at least she thinks he will, and it causes a pang in her chest to think of her only source of comfort walking away. He would do it with a heavy heart, but knowing it was the right thing, but right now Sherry couldn't care less about doing the right thing. So her hand shoots out, reaching for one of his. "Can you - can you stay? Just for tonight." Her voice is so whisper soft that she's unsure if he even heard her at all. He makes to move, making her drop her hand and next thing she knows, he's walking around the bed to the opposite side of her and getting under the covers.

In the back of her mind, there's a shrill voice informing her that he's shirtless, and wearing what appeared to be only boxer shorts, but the side of her that needed him just there, the side that was terrified of having to spend the rest of the night alone and wondering if her nightmares would plague her once more, was having none of it. So she ignores it. 

She also ignores the way her body seems to automatically hover towards his and how he doesn't seem to mind. He lowers himself to laying flat on his back, Sherry's frame slowly approaching his. There's doubt - should she be doing this, should she allow herself to _be_ like this with him? Would he even be okay with her like this? - but when he simply raises his arm and awaits for her to lay on him, face hidden in his chest and arm wrapped around his waist as he does the same around her shoulders, Sherry can't help but feel at home.

_Maybe this was what he meant when he said she was home._ But instead of worrying too much about that unbidden thought in her brain, she simply allows herself to fall asleep, basked in his warmth, a soft hand running down her arm as another gently played with her hair.

To her surprise, when she wakes up that morning, there are no memories of other nightmares, and she feels as rested as she's ever been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title based on _Only When I Sleep - The Corrs_ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YADYmbVM6lY
> 
> Also sidenote but I've been lowkey making a Spotify Playlist based on the fic and might post it one of these days so just a heads up to keep an eye out for that!


	6. Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a rather tiresome night for Sherry, and when she wakes up to an empty bed, she suspects that Jake has tucked his tail and run, leaving her behind once more. So when she arrives at her kitchen and sees him there, making himself at home and making breakfast, she's caught off guard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm seeing a whole lot of people reading this fic so I'd just like to say thanks to everyone supporting my Brand™ because hopefully I'll be here for a while to provide you guys with all your shipping needs.  
> I've also been wanting to dive into some Jill/Carlos fics as well, so maybe once this one is done, I'll hop on that one!

When she wakes up, the bed is empty and her entire body hurts. The muscles on her legs complain as if she'd been running the entire night, and even as Sherry lightly rubs on her calf, it only subsides slightly. Despite all of this, however, she feels rested, arms stretching above her head in hopes of clearing out the lazy sensation that surrounds her like a warm blanket. 

_But she's alone._ And she vividly remembers Jake barging into her room with a look of fierce protectiveness on his face and ready to pounce on whoever or whatever was causing her suffering. She also remembers him taking care of her and calming her down, joining her in bed and allowing her to fall asleep in his arms. Safe. Protected. 

Her cheeks warm up at the memory, hands running down her face to attempt to recover some semblance of normality before she leaves her bed. Finally, her feet touch the floor, and on still somewhat shaky legs, Sherry reaches the bathroom and proceeds to take care of brushing her teeth and washing her face.

_He's gone._ Not a sound can be heard from the upstairs bathroom and a wave of disappointment rushes over her, finding its escape through a sigh from parted lips. _Maybe this was better_ her mind is quick to tell her. Having him around, allowing herself to forgive him and to move on, hopefully with him, it was only going to end in pain and suffering. And she'd already had enough of that. _He seems to always leave_ , the tone of sadness in her inner voice is too painful to focus on, so she ignores it and calmly takes the stairs down and into the kitchen.

However, the sight that awaits her there makes her halt in her step. Instead she hovers at the entrance to the room and gawks at everything happening:

Jake is _still_ blissfully without a shirt and only wearing a pair of sweat pants that hang _oh so low_ on his hips, barefoot, pan in hand as he makes, what seems to be, bacon and eggs. There's already a large stack of pancakes on the counter right next to some freshly cut fruit and syrup. Brownie sits next to the stove, seemingly entranced by the man that seems to command the kitchen with his mere presence. 

"Thought you'd sleep in a little longer. Was gonna bring breakfast up to you in bed, Supergirl."

He doesn't even look at her as he speaks, and she's thankful for the reprieve because now she can blush all she wants at the mental image of Jake, in his current state, waking her up with breakfast at the ready. "Yeah, I uh - I don't usually sleep in as long as I did today." Her eyes quickly flit towards the clock hanging above Jake to notice the time. Ten in the morning. Considering she usually got up at five or six in the morning, this was _really_ late.

"Go sit, then. You can start on the pancakes while I finish this off. I'll join you in a minute." His eyes finally find her as he looks over his shoulder with a smile before he's fully focused on the sizzling pan he holds. So she does as instructed, feet padding towards the stool where she props herself up and proceeds to remove two pancakes from the stack, spooning a few pieces of fruit on top of it and some of the sweet and sticky syrup. 

The opportunity to observe him without worrying is too much for her to pass up on, so Sherry takes a moment to do so. The muscles on his back shift as he works the spatula on the bacon and she's so entranced by the movement that it takes far too long to realise that he's now fully turned towards her, brow raised as he holds up a plate of fried goodness. There's no hiding the crimson on her cheeks that time, however.

"Something on your mind, Sherry?" His tone is teasing and she hopes he doesn't expect an answer because he sure as hell wasn't getting one. And to avoid answering and making herself look like an idiot, she finally takes a bite of the pancake she holds in her fork. Her eyes widen for a brief moment, the taste so pleasant and sweet, that it catches her off guard.

Jake, on his end, clearly looks pleased by the reaction he caused.

"These are pretty good, Jake. I didn't know you could cook." 

He takes a seat on the other side of the counter, digging into his own plate with a couple more pancakes than she'd taken for herself. "Thanks. Guess that's my mom's side of the family kicking into gear." 

They remain quiet for a few moments, each enjoying their breakfast without feeling a need to fill in the silence with pointless conversation, and Sherry can't help but realize how familiar this whole thing felt. Him, in her kitchen, cooking breakfast for the both of them after he'd slept in her bed _freaking holding her_. Her train of though is derailed, however, when he speaks.

"So, was Brownie a lack of imagination or are you just a _really_ big fan of them?"

He isn't looking at her but she can see the grin that surrounds the fork currently in his mouth. "Maybe I just really like brownies, Jake." But her answer comes out in such a pouty way, almost as if she was no more than a child talking back, that she knows she lost that particular fight. 

"Just glad the cat wasn't any other color or that would've been awkward to explain." At that, he finally laughs so softly and tenderly that all she can do is stare. And after a few moments of uncalled silence, Jake looks up and locks his sight on hers as well.

There's an unspoken energy hovering between them, one that begs for something more. A touch, a word, a continuation of their conversation from the previous night, perhaps. But she seems unable to move, to process words and to allow them to leave her mouth.

Jake, however, seems pretty capable. His fork is lowered to the plate in front of him before his arm extends towards her in such a slow manner that she knows for a fact that he's giving her more than enough time to dodge. To tell him no. To ask him what he's doing. But she allows it to happen, and so his soft fingers touch her warm cheek before he tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear. It's such a tender thing that her breath hitches in her throat. 

"I don't have the right to ask but - " His words are so soft and muted that Sherry nearly misses them, instead staring at the hand that is retreating towards his fork once more. " - can you tell me what happened? Last night, I mean. I figure it was a nightmare but - you had me worried, Sherry."

They'd been in battles for their lives and she's never acted in such a way. Hell, they'd been imprisoned in a facility for months and even after all of that, she'd come out the other side only more fierce and intent on getting the hell out of there. What he'd seen the previous night, Sherry knew, had been something that only Claire and Leon could speak of. A version of herself that she hadn't been in years. Not since she'd been forced to grow up and face the harsh reality of life.

"Yeah, it was a nightmare." Her words come out harsher than she'd intended, making her eyes rise from the plate in front of her to look at Jake with an apologetic meaning to them. "A couple of years ago, there was another power outage. That's when I found out that I had PTSD from when I was a kid." 

She takes a bite out of the pancake as an excuse to not speak for a few moments, collecting herself and her thoughts with each break she managed to take in between telling him this. "I don't know if you're aware of this but I was twelve when Raccoon City happened. I was _in_ Raccoon City when it happened. You know about my parents but that's, well, that's where I was when the first outbreak happened." 

The images that come to mind now are so different from those in her nightmares. In her nightmares the walls of the tunnels are covered in blood, voices calling to her from all directions and telling her to take the blame of what her parents had done. Of what they'd enabled to happen to the city and those that lived in it. In reality, she'd been small and scared and looking for places to hide. Looking for her mother in all the places she could usually find her. Being saved by Claire and Leon and seeing the monstrosity her father had become.

"It wasn't... it wasn't easy. Seeing everything burn down. The dead walking around and knowing that my family had something to do with it. Everything was dark." Her eyes rise for only a moment to notice Jake intently listening to her speak, hand tightly coiled around his fork as if he felt enraged on behalf of the child she'd been. "So when that power outage happened, I just - I guess I blacked out. I woke up the next day when Claire Redfield found me curled up in a corner of the kitchen. All I remembered was my father's voice in my head twisted like an animals' howl. My mother calling for me. A bunch of unknown voices calling out and telling me I was guilty of letting _it_ happen."

A shake of her head as she takes another bite, attempting to show a look of indifference, though knowing that she's achieving none of that. You can't blame a girl for trying, though. "Anyway, that's why Leon called last night. He was worried it would happen again. I guess I was better prepared mentally, so I didn't break down but - I guess your defenses go down when you're sleeping." Her fork stabs a bit of pancake a bit harder than necessary before she slides it around the plate to collect some extra syrup. "What made me black out two years ago ended up being my nightmare last night. Except, tenfold. They were my memories but twisted further than before."

She can't even begin to explain everything she'd seen in her nightmare to Jake, not without telling him, step by step, everything she'd seen and had to do back then. So she shrugs her shoulders, thoughtfully chewing as she looked over at the man that had been silently allowing her to talk. "Just a more fucked up version of what happened that night in Raccoon City. A nightmare. I didn't really have much control over it so I must've screamed out. I'm sorry if I woke you up. I didn't mean to, clearly."

"I wasn't asleep. I'd just finished showering when I heard you call out." His tone is quiet and she can tell that he has a look that translates to pure murder in his eyes. She thinks that if he could go back in time, he'd kill every single person that had harmed little Sherry. The police chief wouldn't be having a lot of fun. "I ran in there the second I was... As presentable as time allowed me to be."

There's a flash of an image of Jake in simply his boxer shorts, but Sherry is quick to shut that down. "Well - thank you. For being there. For... Helping me, I guess. I don't think I would've gotten much sleep if you hadn't been there."

She's not completely unaware of how shy her tone is, which explains the reason she never looks at him directly while uttering such words. Instead she places another pancake from the stack on her plate and smothers it completely with the syrup.

The moment stretches for far too long, silence deafening in her ears - it's so constricting, in fact, that it forces Sherry to finally look up in search of Jake's reaction to her thanks. And what she sees nearly takes her breath away. He looks - thankful. Almost at peace. He looks like he wants to tell her something that is bound to be earth-shattering but is taking his entire control not to. And that's when she knows that he valued that. Being thanked. By her, for being there for her, for doing something that he knows he could've been doing for much longer had he not left. 

He offers her a soft smile, so tender and sweet, that Sherry can't help but return. And in that smile she sees that he knows he has a second chance. At life, at her. Without even deciding, she'd made her choice. And there was no regret in it.

He slowly stands up and collects his plate, leaving hers in front of her so she could finish eating, before he moves to the sink and begins washing. 

He doesn't say anything. Neither does she, instead picking up pieces of fruit and stabbing them alongside the pancake she eats. And after a few moments, she can't help the fearful question that had been plaguing her since she'd woken up.

"Jake, when are you leaving?"

Her voice is so soft that she thinks he might not have heard her above the sound of the running water. But he does, the muscles on his back halting as he stops his movement for a fraction of a moment. _He heard her, alright._

"Well, when I'm done with this plate, I'll probably go get dressed and maybe go for a run so -"

She knows what he's doing. "No. Jake - " His name comes out in a pained plea because he knows what she means and is only evading the inevitable. _He always leaves_ and that thought hurts even more now that she'd begun wondering if maybe he wasn't wrong to return to her. " - Jake. _When are you leaving?_ "

And that time, he finally stops. The tap is turned off, hands wiping at his sweat pants before he turns around and walks towards her _oh so slowly_. If she didn't know any better, she'd say she was a prey he'd been waiting for years to catch. "I've told you, Sherry." He's finally close enough that the only thing she can see is his broad chest, forcing her to look up so she could look him in the eye. "I'm here for good. Or, well, as long as you'll have me around."

His hand is soft as it cups her cheek, thumb gently running over her bottom lip. He leans in, slowly, hand never leaving her, before he places a kiss so sweet on her forehead that she knows that if she'd been standing, her legs would've given out on her by now. 

"I'll check into a hotel after lunch and start looking for a more permanent situation once I'm settled, I guess. Already have the number of a realtor nearby."

His words take far too long to register, only doing so when he finally steps back and she can breathe without breathing _him_ in. He was thinking of sticking around permanently? Buying a house? She knew that despite him having gone back on his word of wanting the money after everything that happened in China, the government had opted on transferring the money anyway, so he wasn't exactly living poor but _finding a home near Sherry_? That managed to boggle her mind.

He's about to walk out of the kitchen, to get dressed and go on that run, she assumes, when she seems to unfreeze from her current state. "Uh - I have that guest room. You're free to stay here while you look for a place. If you want, of course." Her casual act of shrugging her shoulders and returning to her nearly forgotten breakfast is hopefully enough to get him to not realize that she was feeling quite flustered. 

Jake halts his step, turning around and nearly stepping on a cat that had quite clearly grown fond of him really quickly. "Stay here? You're sure? I wouldn't be... Imposing? Stepping my boundaries?" 

"It's part of your charm, you always step out of boundaries, Jake. Don't think I've ever seen you keep yourself contained within boundaries." Her smile comes easily as must as the joke. "But yeah, I'm sure. You'll save on the hotel room. Who knows how long it'll take to find a place you like. You can pitch in with the groceries, if it'd make you feel better. Or, if you're as good at cooking full meals as you are at making breakfast, I'll take you cooking as payment."

He seems to consider her words, clearly caught off guard by her offer, before his smile widens and he nods. "Alright, guess I'm staying."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title based on _Angels - The xx_ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_nW5AF0m9Zw


	7. The One That Got Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up in the middle of the night and finding Jake in a bit of a compromising manner leaves Sherry feeling in a way that she _knows_ she shouldn't be feeling.   
> However, the next day, when things seem to get more complicated, she makes a hasty decision that might end up doing more harm than good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all I'd just like to thank everyone for the incredibly nice comments on this fic! I'm really glad you're enjoying the portrayal of Jake and Sherry that I'm writing and that it corresponds to what you want to see from them!  
> This chapter is the beginning of a more complicated "part" for them, which will be explored fully in the next chapter!  
> Enjoy!

Once Jake accepts the invitation to stay in Sherry's guest bedroom, two weeks go by without much change.

She doesn't have any more nightmares like the one she'd had that first night he'd arrived, so he refrains from sharing the bed with her. It had only been so he could comfort her, Sherry reminds herself, shoving the ache in her chest behind high walls that no one could reach, not even herself. 

As for the rest, well, she has discovered that he has a knack for cooking. _Comes from my mom's side of the family_ he'd often told her when she'd complimented the meal he'd prepared with minimum help from Sherry. She'd offered, she really had, but after somehow managing to almost burn down the house while boiling water for pasta, Jake had told her that she could help by allowing them both to be alive to try the food. So she'd complied. 

He was surprisingly good at making italian food, out of all things, and she can't say she minds one bit.

After they were done, he always got up to clean but she'd always beat him to it and did it for him. He'd cooked, she'd clean - that mantra had been repeated every single meal, but it never stopped him from helping her dry out the plates by her side. It felt homey, normal, and he'd often caught her with a small smile on her lips during those moments of silence when they worked together.

It seemed that no matter what they were doing, working in the field wielding guns and bombs, or plates and a cloth, they _fit_. Seamlessly working alongside each other, knowing what to do and when to do it.

Late in the evening, things didn't change much, either. 

They would both sit on the couch, _always making sure to sit with a big enough distance so they wouldn't cave in and do something they'd regret_ , and if Sherry was reading through files, Jake would be reading a book or newspaper. If Sherry was watching TV, he'd join in and make insightful comments on what they were seeing. Her favorite nights were when they'd sit down and watch something that managed to prompt him to make an endless string of jokes, be them because he was mocking what they were watching or because they reminded him of something funny that he'd share.

And now, laying in bed, after one of those joke filled evenings, she can't stop thinking. Because he was still _here_ and he didn't seem like he was even considering of leaving. And somehow she misses him. And what if she - 

The way she exits her bed is sudden, feet planted firmly on the floor. _This particular train of thought needs to stop._

A glance at the clock on the bedside table and she sees that it's one in the morning. Not wanting to make any noise to wake up Jake, Sherry instead opts on going to the bathroom. Maybe washing her face or even taking a quick shower would be a sure way of clearing her head of those ridiculous thoughts she seemed to be having. So she slowly makes her way to the door, eyes half closed and mind half asleep.

She's so out of it indeed, that it takes her a moment to realize that Jake was also up. And making his way to the bathroom.

She only notices when they're both face to face, standing in front of the room.

And it's only then that she notices, as well, that he's - well, he's naked.

Her eyes remain focused on his face, expression bored. Well, not exactly _bored_ , more like her brain hasn't caught up exactly with what her eyes see. 

And it takes her _so long_ for it to fully click in her head, that even when it does, she's unsure if she's having a stroke or actually seeing what she thinks she's seeing. He, on the other hand, looks like this is the most normal thing to ever happen. He looks more surprised to have someone also wanting to use the bathroom rather than her seeing him naked.

Her eyes finally drift from his face to his toes and right back up. It's not appraising in the least, instead a curious and analyzing consideration of what was happening in front of her. When she finally reaches his eyes once more, her tone is as deadpan as they come. Surprisingly, there's not a hitch in her voice, either. "Jake - Jake, are you naked, right now?"

He looks down on himself as if he's unsure of what she's talking about, and when he does, she can see his eyes widen for a brief moment. And if she had been of sound mind, she would've probably laughed because he clearly hadn't realized the situation. He was still half asleep himself, it would seem. "Uh - yeah. I am." Despite this, however, his words come out calm and with no waver to them.

"Would you care to enlighten me as to why you're currently naked?" She blinks at him, true curiosity filling her eyes to the brim.

"Well, I sleep naked most nights. I got up to use the bathroom. I didn't think to put on some pants." He sounds on the verge of being apologetic, and Sherry knows without a doubt that if she showed any disgust or concern at his answer, he'd be ready to mend the situation. And she's almost tempted to tell him to put on some pants only so she can see him running back to his room to get some. However, she doesn't do that.

Instead, she does her one-over once more, eyes slowly taking in his figure from head to toe. When she looks at his face once more, she's still oddly calm. "Okay." A soft nod before she turns her back to him and slowly pads her way towards her bedroom once more. "I'll come back in a bit, you go first. Have a good night, Jake."

And despite now being tucked safely in bed after leaving a gaping Jake in the hallway and somehow managing to not drop then and there at the sight that was now ingrained into her mind, she knows that in the morning her brain will fully finish processing what had happened just now and leave her scorched for the rest of her life.

\---

When she wakes up, Sherry is all to aware of how right she was. Her mind clearly enjoyed the sight from the previous night, if her current state was anything to go by. The rather steamy dreams she'd conjured in her sleep had managed to wake her up in discomfort and need of release, even the soft touch of cotton from her pajamas too much for her sensitive skin. 

She does consider taking care of business herself; it would be so easy, a simple slip of her fingers under the elastic band of her shorts, slowly sliding between her soft thighs and - 

A frustrated breath escapes her lips, head shaking at herself and her own thoughts before Sherry sits up and decides to leave the bed. She wouldn't do that, couldn't bare to look at Jake if she did, unable to think about anything else other than what she'd done while thinking about _him_. So a cold shower would have to do.

She's quick and effective, going through the motions in a more than methodical manner, dread filling her at the idea of having to face _him_ once she was done. So she avoids thinking too much about it. She also avoids rushing too much once the shower is done with, instead calmly brushing her teeth, making sure her hair was fully dried and brushed, skin moisturized and properly taken care of before giving up on stalling and finally leaving the bathroom.

When she arrives at the lower floor, however, Jake is nowhere to be found. It's a bit later than usual for breakfast as they usually do, but it strikes her as odd to not see him anywhere.

Despite this, her place is set at the counter in the kitchen, a stack of still warm pancakes awaiting her arrival. He'd seemingly left not that long ago, having left everything ready for her to enjoy the food he'd prepared as usual and such a small thing manages to warm her heart and make her forget her embarrassment from the previous night almost entirely. 

Minutes tick by as Sherry enjoys the food, feeding tiny bits to Brownie as he circled her legs with a more than begging look in his eyes - until the phone rings. It catches her off guard, brows creasing before she stands up and takes the call. "Hello?"

_"Uh hello? I'm looking for Mister Jake Muller? I do believe I have the right number, correct? This is the number he gave me at least so I'm sure that -_

The woman's voice is unfamiliar and her babbling suddenly turns grating at the realization that Jake, out of all things, had given her home number to some random woman. "Yes, and who might this be?" If her tone of voice seems annoyed, it's because she is.

_"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't even introduce myself! My name is Amanda Bryanberg and I'm calling on behalf of a home that Mr. Muller had shown interest in a while ago? The clients that were previously interested in that house decided on another place to call their home so I'm calling to inform him that if he's still interested, it's all his!"_

The cheery tone does very little to help Sherry warm up to the woman, though she's far too busy thinking about the implications of what she was saying to even bother thinking about that. So Jake had moved on with the idea of buying a house? He hadn't even told her about any of it? What, was he just going to up and leave, move to his new home without telling her that he had even contacted the realtor? 

_"I'm sorry, ma'am? If you could tell Mr. Muller to call me back when he can, that would be lovely! I must go, but thank you for your uh - help."_

The phone is heavily dropped back to its place, anger quickly overtaking Sherry's features. How could he do this without letting her know? So much for sticking around in her life when he didn't even tell her that he'd been in contact with someone about finding a home!

What she does next is petty and she's well aware of it, doubt taking over her even as she moves towards her work phone and begins writing a message to the co-worker that had often asked her out but she'd denied every single time. But her will to make him regret doing something like this overpowers whatever shroud of guilt Sherry has, and finally she does as planned. _Hey, Ryan! I was thinking and maybe we could grab a drink tonight? Maybe get dinner? - Sherry_

It doesn't take long for him to reply with a clearly very enthusiastic _YES_ , and after planning the time and place, Sherry knows that there's a slight chance that what she was about to do was going to go wrong.

Very, _very_ wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title: _The Civil Wars - The One That Got Away_ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QUWvtrypGGI


	8. Love Will Tear Us Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the time comes for Sherry to go on that date with her co-worker, things go south rather quickly.  
> And by the time the night ends, she realizes how she truly feels all while managing to possibly ruin her shot at being with Jake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm honestly loving all the feedback on this fic, I'd love to keep getting it, so please keep those comments coming in! It's incredibly humbling to be getting such positive feedback considering I'm not even a native english speaker, so again, thank you so much!  
> I'm also available to answer any questions about the fic so y'know, throw them at me.

When he gets home an hour later, Sherry doesn't say anything, mind reeling from what she'd set in motion. 

There was already a black dress on her bed paired with dark heels ready for her dinner plans, but she didn't dare even mention it to Jake.

She also doesn't mention the call he'd gotten.

She tells herself she'd forgotten, she'd tell him later, but later seems to never arrive and so she proceeds with her day almost like normal.

_Almost._

Most of her afternoon is spent in the makeshift office in her home, opting on focusing on her work rather than the man currently sitting in the living room watching TV. At one point he'd dropped in, left a tray with some food for her so she'd eat something and promptly left when she'd barely given him more than two words. And she'd felt bad, truly she had, but her mind was straying and her courage to go on with her plan was slowly wavering.

If she notices a bit of an upset frown when he leaves her office, she does her best not to dwell on it.

And so when late afternoon arrives and he hops in to ask what she was in the mood for dinner, Sherry knows she can't avoid it any longer.

"I'm going out for dinner. You don't have to worry about that." Her smile wavers only slightly, the surprise on his features making her swallow thickly. However, he doesn't seem upset or angry in any way. More... Curious.

"Oh, okay. Well, say hello to your co-workers for me, then. I'm sure they'll be happy to know I'm alive."

As he slowly makes his way out of the room, she considers pretending like he's right. Sure, a co-worker dinner, it was _totally_ that. But the thought of her friend picking her up at her door and Jake seeing him and realizing that it was a date - well, that would end badly. Not just for the guy buying dinner but for Sherry as well.

"Actually, I'm going out on a date. With a co-worker." He freezes at the door and through the thin shirt, she can see the tension on his back muscles. His grip on the half-open door seems a bit harsher than needed, as well. 

"Oh yeah? Anyone I know?"

The question is said through a clenched jaw and an overly nice smile that not even Jake himself could pull off without seeming forced. And she knows what he's asking because there aren't that many people that he would know from her world, not when he'd left and all the acquaintances he'd made had been from back then. 

"It's not Leon. Or Chris. No, Jake." Her answer comes out with a bite, protectiveness over her friends, the people she considered family, far too great to even consider going along with what he thought. "I told you, they're like family to me. I can't believe you'd even ask that."

There's a fleeting look of guilt that crosses his features though it's gone just as quickly as it had arrived. Truth be told, she understood it. Had been asked such questions when she'd been looking for a missing Jake - _Are you two in a relationship? Did you sleep together? Is that why you're so worried about finding him?_ \- and every single time she'd denied it, anger at what they had assumed. Or well, not while he didn't show up and she had a chance of speaking with him about how she thought she felt. Until then, it was only assumptions. 

He doesn't apologize nor say anything else, instead nodding and leaving the office with a soft thud of the closing door, leaving Sherry to consider the hurt that had crossed his face as he left.

\---

With only five minutes to spare until her date arrives, Sherry makes sure that everything is good to go. 

A quick look in the mirror and it's clear that she's not really herself - or, well, her usual self. She's far too dressed up for a normal date, making sure to draw the eyes of every single person that she walked by; a form fitting black dress that dipped just bellow her breasts to reveal cleavage that most wouldn't be aware that she had in her casual clothes and the back - there wasn't one. Not really, at least, fully uncovering her smooth skin until the dimple just above her bottom. She'd bought the dress years prior, knowing perfectly well just how nice she looked in it. And considering the lack of other fancy clothing options at that moment, this would do nicely.

She pairs it with strappy black heels that manage to make her legs look longer and a bold red lip and she's ready to go!

With two minutes to spare, too!

Although, the knock at her front door indicates that _someone_ had arrived earlier. 

_Fuck._

By the time she reaches the bottom of the stairs, Jake is already opening the door, completely ignoring her as she calls out to him to let her do it.

Her co-worker looks mortified, as far as she can tell, and Sherry can only imagine the look on Jake's face. Because if anything, there's only one look that can cause so much panic in a man and thankfully she'd never seen that look directed at her.

"Uh hi? I'm - I'm here to pick up Sherry. We're uh - Oh! Sherry, hi!" Ryan's tone is the pure definition of relieved as he looks over Jake's shoulder and seems to find her. His eyes momentarily widen, appraising her looks, before he looks back at the taller man blocking his way inside and seems to decide on keeping his comments to himself. 

He doesn't know how wise that decision was.

However, Jake seems to pick up on something because he too looks behind and finds Sherry standing right there, ready for the date. His jaw clenches, hand tightening on the door jamb, and as she takes note of such a small thing, she can only imagine what it would be like for her poor co-worker to be shaking hands with him just then. A broken hand, that was for sure.

"Thanks for picking me up, Ryan. I'm all good to go. Shall we?" 

As she moves past him to reach her date, a soft yet firm hand grabs her arm. She can easily remove it, but doesn't, curiosity stronger than her desire to move away from Jake. "I'll have my phone with me. Call me if - if you need anything."

His tone is soft, much like his eyes as he looks at her with concern and care. Though the second his sight moves towards Ryan, it turns harsh and if looks could kill, he would be dead by now. And despite all of this, she can't take it. Can't handle how he seems to be so willing to leave her out of his life like she was nothing more than the woman letting him stay in her guest bedroom - like a freaking inn keeper. 

With a nod, Sherry finally detangles herself from his grasp and follows behind her co-worker, not even daring to look behind her to see if Jake still lingered by the door observing her. She knows he's there, can feel his eyes drill through her like he's trying to compel her to stay instead of leaving. "Oh, by the way, a lady called this morning. That place you were looking at seems to be in the market again. Make sure you call her, wouldn't want you losing your big shot, right?" 

And as she finally looks towards her home through the car window as Ryan starts the vehicle, she can vaguely spot a confused expression on his face. _Idiot. As if he doesn't know what I'm talking about._

\---

Dinner is pleasant enough and Ryan is polite enough. It's all _enough_ and that doesn't sit well with Sherry. He orders the wine for them, having much more knowledge of what pairs well with the Parmesan Risotto she'd picked for herself and the Smoked Salmon he'd chosen for himself. She doesn't question him on any of it. He doesn't restraint himself, however, and goes on a fifteen minute one-sided conversation about the wonders of picking the right wine.

If that hadn't been enough of a tip that her co-worker was going to be a good date, much less the _best date of her life to help her forget Jake Muller_ then the rest of that painfully slow dinner would do it.

When the food arrives, all he can talk about is work. And it's not even small talk about other colleagues, it wasn't gossip or anything fun. No, he was more curious as to her missions and her past. More specifically, everything about her childhood and - "How was it? Being tested for so many years? I mean, that couldn't have been easy, right?" 

With a very visible cringe, Sherry politely informs him that the topic isn't something she's comfortable talking about and that she'd rather drop it and switch to something else. Ryan obliges, thankfully, but this only lasts a few more minutes before he's right back on track. She's so distracted with swirling her fork inside her plate that she's honestly just unsure how he went from his last trip on vacation to her being tested on for years until she joined the agency.

"Listen, Ryan. Like I told you, I'm really not comfortable discussing this so if you don't mind changing to something else - otherwise I don't think -"

He quickly stops her, nervous expression flaring at realizing that he'd been hitting a spot that was still bruised. It always would be, she figured, and despite not letting it get to her and using it as something to propel her forward and into action, she wasn't willing to discuss it with just about anyone.

And thankfully the conversation shifts once more. He doesn't return to that particular topic but throughout the entire meal, he drabs on about cars. And guns. Never directing the conversation to Sherry or allowing her to get a word in edgewise. 

Her mind drifts as he talks on and on, completely losing herself to a scenario quite similar to this, but one where she'd actually be enjoying herself. Jake surely wouldn't be half ignoring her presence. He also _wouldn't_ have asked her repeatedly about topics that she'd told him she wasn't comfortable talking about. Hell, she knows perfectly well that he would've never asked in the first place because he could read her like a freaking open book. He probably would've also picked a different place for them to eat. Just as fancy but a bit more private. A little hole in the wall type of place that only Jake would know about because he always seems to manage to surprise her.

But above surprising her, he understood her. He _got her._ Hell, they had been living under the same roof for little over two weeks and they seemed to work perfectly together, in harmony. Capable of helping each other out without making the other feel overwhelmed. Alone. It was a perfect balance that Sherry hadn't expected considering their past and especially their first conversation when he'd suddenly appeared. 

She's so distracted by her own thoughts that it takes Ryan three times clearing his throat for her to clear the haze in her mind and look at him. He looked like he'd been waiting for an answer and given up, for lack of a better description. However, he didn't seem upset. More - understanding.

"I'm wasting my time here, aren't I?" He offers her a quirk of his lips, hand rising to call the waiter who promptly drops the bill on the table. "It's him, right? The guy back at your place?" 

Sherry opens her mouth once, twice, before shutting it completely. She could play the confused card, pretend to not know what he was talking about, but without knowing it, soon she's nodding in reply, eyes lowering to her empty plate.

"Was this to make him jealous? To prove something him? To yourself?" He seems more curious than hurt, and secretly she's thankful that he's the one here instead of just about any other guy that would throw a fit at finding out that he'd never stood a chance. 

"I don't - I don't really know. He hurt me. Something he did. And I just acted instead of working through it or questioning him. I guess I kind of wanted to prove to him that I don't need him in my life to be happy?" A faint shrug of her shoulders because even Sherry herself is kind of unsure as to why she did it at this point. Maybe she'd overreacted.

"Maybe I just needed to prove to myself that I don't like him. That he's not the one for me."

"And did it work?" His words are knowing, brow raised as he pockets his credit card once the waiter delivers it after payment.

"I - I guess it didn't." _I guess he's the one._ And that concept scares the living shit out of her.

\---

By the time Ryan drops her off with a couple of comforting words, Sherry's unsure what expects her back at the house.

She hadn't called. Hadn't messaged. Nothing. And arriving two hours after she'd left with what was sure to be an embarrassed look on her face for being plainly called out on her scheme to make Jake jealous - well, she wasn't sure she was ready to see him. 

There is only a faint glow in the kitchen when she finally opens the door and ventures inside the house, and crouched in the corner with a very happy Brownie currently being hand-fed, was Jake. He doesn't look up or move when she walks in, instead keeping busy with the food he held on one hand, and petting the soft fur with the other.

"I take it dinner went well." His voice is low and calm, no anger to be found and that is a great relief. It lifts a weight from her shoulders that she hadn't been aware that she was carrying. 

"Yeah, it went well." 

"He's not coming inside? Don't let me deter you, I was just headed up to bed."

The casual tone in his words manages to grate her. Clearly her attempt at making him jealous hadn't worked - he really didn't give a crap about what she did! But instead of commenting on it, Sherry drops her purse on the kitchen counter and reaches for a bottle of water in the fridge. Not a single word leaves her mouth even when she finishes drinking, instead grabbing her things and slowly making her way to the bedroom.

"Before you go - " He stands up, tall as a freaking tree in all his glory and makes his way to her. He crowds her space, nearly making her walk back out of sheer instinct, but Sherry fights it, holding her ground. "- would you care to explain why you didn't deliver the message about the realtor?"

She swallows thickly, guilt overtaking her. In all honesty, she'd thought he might have dropped the topic and never touch it again. "I uh - forgot."

"Forgot? I know you well enough, Sherry Birkin. You have an incredibly big brain that doesn't easily forget. So lets try that again - why didn't you tell me?"

Sherry finally takes a step back, needing the space to breathe and think. There was no way she could hide the truth from him. Not at this point. Not after being as exhausted as she was.

"You found a place to live. Hell, you contacted a realtor and you never told me jack-shit about it. How do you expect me to feel about this? About being left completely in the dark about this - about you moving on. Moving out!" Jaw clenched, the anger is clear in her expression if her voice hadn't been enough of a clue.

"Never told you? Sherry, _what the fuck?_ The second you invited me to stay over, you said it would be _until I found something else._ And I agreed, I told you I'd stay while I looked for a new home. I never kept any fucking thing from you. How can you - Wait." He eyes her with with suspicion that quickly turns into assurance. He'd clearly cracked whatever code he'd been trying to see through.

"You went on that date to punish me, didn't you? You went out with that wimpy ass suit just so you could make me feel _bad_ about doing what I fucking promised. You did, didn't you?"

He barely waits for an answer from her, getting it instead from the clear look of guilt on her face. She can't even look at him.

"Sherry - I can't believe you'd do that. You can't fucking blame me for doing what I did."

He looks upset. Not angry, not by a long shot. But upset. _Disappointed_. His jaw clenches and he looks like he's trying not to say anything else. Something that might do more damage instead of fixing it. And she _wanted_ to fix it, didn't she? Because this was all her fault for being dramatic about something that she should've understood from the start.

"Jake - " 

But he shakes his head and walks around her to make his way up the stairs. He's not slow, either, his step is hasty and with purpose. He's done.

But she isn't, so she runs after him, catching him just before he reaches the door to the bedroom, her soft but firm hand grabbing his. "Jake - "

"Don't. You don't get to do that, Sherry." He doesn't turn back, instead remaining facing the door. "I know I fucked up in the past and I know that I don't deserve a second chance but I've been doing my fucking best to prove to you that I'm here to stay. That I'm here for you. Me looking for a house? That's me wanting to give you space and not just assume that I'm going to be staying here for the rest of my fucking life because, unlike what you might believe, I have no clue what's going on in that head of yours. I don't know if you're actually giving me a chance to win you over, if I already have or if you're planning on letting me down gently." 

A shake of his head and finally Sherry notices that his shoulders are tense with a need to _do_ something. Either punch something or hold onto something.

"But the truth is that I'm tired, Sherry. I've been trying to prove myself to you and the first chance you get, you decide that I'm a bad guy and that the best thing to do is punish me by playing with my emotions. Because I actually fucking have those, believe it or not."

He finally turns around and she recognizes the look on his face - she's sure it's quite familiar to the one she sported when he first arrived, telling him that she was tired of the games and needed him to get straight to the reason that had brought him back into her life. He's exhausted. Tired. Mentally drained. _Emotionally_ drained. "Jake, I'm -"

"No. Lets not do this, alright? I think I'm done trying. I think I'm just _done_. I can't keep throwing myself on the ground and hoping that you'll give me a crumb when you're more worried about what I'm doing with that crumb."

And without a single more word, Jake finally walks into his bedroom, the soft sound of the lock echoing in the silent corridor.

She'd fucked up. She'd royally fucked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title based on Love Will Tear Us Apart - Joy Division   
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zuuObGsB0No


	9. Why do we sleep where we want to hide?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a massive argument between them that left Sherry alone with her thoughts, she has no other option but to attempt to make up for her idiotic plan of punishing Jake for making good on what he promised. Now the real question is: will it work?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter has been long awaited by many of you and I know that it is in fact a wee bit shorter than usual, but it's a sort of transition from a really bad place for both our heroes and hopefully we'll get a whole lot more in the next chapter which will be coming sooner than you'd think!   
> Thank you all for the super sweet comments and I hope you all keep enjoying this fic!

It takes absolutely everything in her not to knock at his door the second after Jake closes it.

_Give him space._ Her mind is quite clear about that concept, and so she doesn't try her luck in getting him to talk to her once more.

For the next hour, Sherry attempts to do everything as if nothing had happened. She blocks it off in her head, that argument, the look of pure hurt on his face when he realized that she'd lied to him. That she'd toyed with him. Because that's what she'd done, right? She'd played with his emotions, knowing perfectly well how he felt about her. She'd overreacted over something that she shouldn't have.

Distance and regret are truly great ways of getting a good perspective of your mistakes, apparently.

So she removes her makeup, removes her heels and the black dress, throws it in the bin for washing the next day and proceeds to go into her bedroom. A midnight snack was not in order, the last thing she could think about was eating, but then again, sleep seemed to be a distant memory as well. 

Sherry laid in bed, the silence ticking by each painful second that sleep seemed to refuse her. _Shut down and start over in the morning._ She wanted to do that. She really did. But instead her ears are focused on trying to find any sign of Jake moving in his bedroom, any sign of him opening the door to go to the bathroom or to get something to eat - anything. 

But it never comes. It's quiet, eerily so. And she can only imagine what's going through his mind.

And after a while... Well, she's only human and humans can only handle so much.

So she gets up and makes her way to his bedroom door and - goes back into hers.

Now, this process repeats itself on a loop for roughly the following thirty minutes and Sherry is almost sure that the carpet on the corridor will be completely worn out by the time she finally does something.

By the time she stops at his door for good, it's past one in the morning and she struggles to make that final move. To open the goddamn door and apologize to him. But she does, surprised to find that the door was unlocked and simply closed.

Jake is laying in bed, his back to the door, but she knows he's not asleep. The second she steps inside, the muscles on his back tense and shift as if he's weary and preparing to flee.

And she's never seen him like that. He seems so small, huddled in that corner of the bed. It was slightly smaller than hers, though it could comfortably fit two, but he seemed to make himself smaller as he attempts to sleep and part of her wonders if that's from years of living surrounded by war and fear clawing at his back in preparation for what could come at any second. 

One foot in front of the other and she finally reaches the side of the bed. No words are spoken as she calmly sits on the bed and finally lays down on it. No blankets are pulled nor does Sherry make an effort to get him to turn around. Maybe this was better. Maybe without him looking at her with hurt eyes and disappointment written all over his face she could talk. Explain herself. 

A moment goes by, then another. Jake doesn't turn around all while she lays there looking up at the ceiling. Her hands itch to reach out to him but she opts on keeping them tangled on her stomach. Any touch from her wouldn't be welcomed right now, she's sure of it.

"I thought you were leaving me behind." Her tone is soft and nearly a whisper. "If it happened once, who's to tell me it won't happen twice, you know?" She doesn't expect an answer but there's a slight shift on the bed as if he's leaning in to pay closer attention to what she's saying. Or maybe he's trying to contain himself from saying something. Whichever it is, Sherry can't say.

"That's no excuse for what I did. I know that. I just - you confuse me so much. You make me feel so much and I feel like I just don't know what to do." Her head turns to look at the wall of muscles still turned to her. She awaits for a reaction, a word; for him to tell her to go on or perhaps for her to leave. But none of it ever comes.

"I got used to having you around. You make it easy. To just... Be myself, I guess. I don't have to make an effort. I just naturally feel happy around you, I don't know how to explain it." His lack of answer or reaction causes Sherry to shift on the bed, nervousness overtaking her. "I overdid it, I know. I thought you were leaving and I just - I wanted to have the chance of doing it before you could do it to me. It was childish and stupid and I shouldn't have done it." 

The admission doesn't come easy to her and it shows in how strained her voice is. "But besides that I just - I think I wanted to be sure that I could do this without you. That I could be happy and move on." It had taken an incredibly long conversation about wines and what they paired well with for her to come to the conclusion that no, Jake made her happy in a way that no one could. And deep down Sherry already knew this. Her stubbornness was preventing her from embracing this. 

And now it was apparently too late. He was upset and she feared what that might mean.

Would she wake up the next morning and find the house empty? Would he remain but act cold towards her? 

Neither options seemed like something she was looking forward to and the idea of closing her eyes and drifting to sleep only to wake up and find one of those things her new reality frightened her more than words could ever express. 

The next few minutes are spent in silence. Sherry makes an effort to not allow herself to fall asleep within the lull of the comfort of his presence all while trying to gouge a reaction from Jake's back that seemed to refuse to move.

He's awake, though, that much she knows. His breathing is far too even for anyone that might be asleep and he seems intent on not moving from his position. It takes everything in her to not reach out and touch him. It takes everything in her to not give in and spoon him because if he didn't need it, she sure as fuck did.

"Did it work?"

When he speaks, Sherry nearly jumps out of her skin from the sheer surprise of it. It's so quiet, hushed in its tone in the midst of the silence of the room that seemed to cover them after such an admission on her end. She has no idea how long she's been laying there next to him, staring up at the ceiling, fingers twined on her stomach as if preventing herself from touching him.

"Yeah - Yeah, it worked."

His back tenses and she knows he misunderstands what she says; perhaps he thinks she's telling him _yes, I figured out that I can in fact live without you so you can go fuck yourself and leave my house in the morning!_. Then again, maybe he's unsure of what she meant at all and awaiting a further explanation with heated breath.

Either way, she hated seeing him like that, shackles up and already looking defeated. As if his efforts had been for nothing.

"I figured out that as much as I keep telling myself that keeping away from you is what's best for me, I can't seem to do that. I can't seem to shake you off." A smile plays on her lips as she speaks, fondness of her own stupidity against him now warming her instead of frightening her.

"I had every right of being upset with you. You hurt me a lot with what you did." Her head turns to the side in hopes of seeing him turn or simply a reaction. She sees none of it, however. "But I had no right of holding a grudge when you tried so hard to make up for it. When you opened up to me and - " _Did everything to keep me safe._

"Jake. All I'm asking is for you to not give up. I've been an idiot and I have my issues but - just don't give up yet, okay?"

For a very long moment, what feels like hours on end, Sherry stares at the back of Jake's head to no avail. He doesn't answer. Doesn't move. And were it not for the fact that she knows him far too well for his own good, she would've figured that he'd fallen asleep.

And then, just as she closes her eyes and sleep finally claims her, Sherry just barely misses the oh so subtle nod he gives in answer to her plead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title based on: All Time Low: Monsters ft. blackbear  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6aIVwQFSnVc

**Author's Note:**

> DUN DUN DUUUUN  
> Of course there had to be a cliffhanger, I mean, what kind of fanfic writer would I be if I just left it all happily settled on the first chapter, yknow?  
> Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this first tiny taste of the fic I have in mind. I'll try to update as frequently as possible!
> 
> Chapter Title based on _Creedence Clearwater Revival - Have You Ever Seen The Rain_  
>  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g4flAZEgtjs


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